


Soldiers

by Bookwormpride



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Family Issues, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, George Get Some Therapy, George and Lance Are Good Dads Okay, Growing Up, M/M, Trans Bow (She-Ra)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-18
Updated: 2020-02-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:27:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22782487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bookwormpride/pseuds/Bookwormpride
Summary: Bow knew how his dads‘ felt about fighters, but he still wished they would be proud of him.
Relationships: Adora & Bow & Glimmer (She-Ra), Bow & George & Lance (She-Ra), George/Lance (She-Ra)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 85





	Soldiers

Bow jumped onto the fallen tree trunk at the edge of his backyard and planted his foot on the stump of a broken branch. He raised his hand to shield his eyes and imagined he was looking out over sparkling blue water reaching to the horizon without land in sight, his red dress a cape instead snapping in the wind off the ocean rather than the gentle breeze through the Whispering Woods.

“What is that?” He shouted to his imaginary crew.

‘ _I_ _s it… Captain RedEye?_ ’ One of them answered fearfully.

Jumping down from the trunk he grabbed one of the thicker sticks from the ground. “I knew we hadn’t seen the last of him in Sea Worthy!”

He jumped back as a pirate swung in on a rope. Captain RedEye, he imagined, with his purple skin scarred from many battles, adorned in stolen gold jewelry, and of course, a single red eye.

He raised his stick - his sword - and warned, “Get offa my ship, Captain RedEye.”

He pictured RedEyes snarl as he stepped forward, lazily crossing his arms. ‘ _And what's a pretty little lady like yourself gonna do about it, huh?’_

“I’ll throw you off myself!” Bow countered, and without another word swung his weapon.

Bow lunged and jabbed and blocked, dancing around the backyard as if around a ship's deck. He could almost hear the clang of metal against metal as they fought, and he could see the wicked gleam in RedEyes eye.

“I’ll make you regret ever stepping foot on _my_ ship, RedE-”

His threat was cut off by a hand reaching out and grabbing his pretend sword. His dad, having appeared behind him without warning. “Whoa there, what are you doing?”

“Fighting a bad guy!” Bow said enthusiastically with a big, chubby cheeked smile.

George didn’t smile back, instead he frowned as he knelt on one knee in front of Bow. “You know, I know that fighting looks exciting,” He said evenly, gently pulling out a clip that had started to slip from Bows hair. “But it’s not _fun_. It’s scary, and it’s dangerous.”

“But it’s just pretend,” Bow assured him.

“It’s not a game, sweetheart,” George shook his head solemnly. From the backdoor Lance emerged, and seeing the seriousness of the pair crossed the grass to join them. “When there's a fight in real life people get hurt, and sometimes… sometimes the people you care about most can be hurt too. Do you understand?”

Bow did, but… “What about the bad guys?” He asked.

Lance laid a hand on Bows head, flattening his curls under his fingers. “You know, the best way to fight a bad guy is to _outsmart_ them,” He said with a sly grin. “So, why don’t we go have lunch, and afterwards you can help me sort some of the new finds they sent us from the Northern dig sight, hmm? Maybe you’ll find a way to defeat the bad guy in the ancient texts.”

Bow allowed himself to be led into the house, his imaginary sword left behind in the grass.

* * *

Sitting on his dads’ bed Bow watched as George rummaged through the master bedroom closet in search of one particular box, grumbling to himself about the mess his husband always left behind, pulling out storage containers and old shoes and stacks of books and setting them aside.

Then from the very back of the closet he brought out three gleaming, curved swords sheathed in their matching scabbards.

Bow was sure his eyes must have been the size of saucers as he stared at the weapons.

He knew his dad had fought in the war. He had heard stories, and of course, _the story_ \- how he had left for a battle, leaving Bow - only a baby then - and his siblings with their other dad, how the Horde had attacked, forcing them to flee the village they had once called home. His dad had returned to find his town destroyed and his family missing, and while they reunited only hours later, that day he put away his swords and swore he would never leave them again.

Bow had never seen the actual weapons his dad had wielded, and the sight of them filled him with curiosity and a desire that had burned inside him since he was a little kid and left him itching for action, to hear the roar of battle and feel the racing of his heart as he defended what was right.

A desire that terrified him because he knew what following it would mean.

“Dad?” He asked slowly. George looked over from where he was trying to prop the swords up against a nearby chair. “Can... I see them?”

“Uh…” George glanced at the sword in his hand uncertainly, then back at Bow. “Sure,” He agreed, bringing one to Bow. 

Bow felt a shiver of excitement run down his spine at the sound of scraping metal as his dad unsheathed the sword and, with a few fingers supporting the blade and his other hand under the hilt, held it out to him. “Be careful, it’s sharp,” He warned.

Bow took the sword by the grip and when George let go it wavered in his grasp, surprising him with its weight. His dad chuckled.

Bringing the sword closer Bow marveled at the feeling of holding a real weapon in his hand, turning it this way and that to see all the details, from the pattern on the guard to the way the light caught the curve of the blade.

The burning call for action intensified as he pictured standing on a battlefield with the sword - but no, that didn’t feel quite right… maybe not a sword, something else, he thought.

He noticed a series of triangles, diamonds, and circles connected by short lines engraved just below the guard - First Ones writing. “What does it say?” He asked, running a finger over the inscription, feeling the light scratches in the metal.

“Family,” George answered. “I had it made in Brightmoon when I was there with the rebellion.”

Bow saw an opportunity to test the waters, to inquire just a little more into how his dad felt, and would feel if…

“Do you ever regret leaving the rebellion?” He asked with a considerable effort to keep his voice steady and his tone casual.

His dad studied him for a long moment as he seemed to mull over his thoughts, before sitting down beside him on the edge of the bed, folding his hands in his lap and taking a deep breath. Bow set the sword aside and turned himself to face him.

“When I enlisted,” George started carefully. “I thought that it was the right way to protect our family. I heard what the Horde was doing, how they left nothing but destruction and grief in their wake, and I knew that if they won no one on Etheria would ever be safe, or free, or without fear again. That wasn’t the kind of future I wanted for you and your brothers, or for anyone else. I thought by enlisting I was protecting our family.”

Bow was surprised by how much his dad’s words resonated with him. Every so often, on trips to nearby villages or in overhearing his brothers conversations when they came home, Bow would find out about another atrocity the Horde had committed and he would think of the people hurt in it, and ache with longing to _do something_ , to make Etheria safer, to create a future without war.

George sighed heavily. “But when the Horde attacked our village and… I wasn’t there,” His voice became grim with the words, his hand clenching into a fist. “I realized that if I had wanted to protect our family I should have never left. I wasn’t there when all of you needed me the most, and I will _never_ forgive myself for that…” 

George shook his head firmly and his expression cleared. He turned back to Bow with a subdued smile that didn’t reach his eyes like it usually did. “So no, I don’t regret it, because I know now the best thing I can do for my family is to be _right here_ ,” He said, emphasizing his words by putting an arm around Bows shoulders and pulling him into his side with a tight squeeze.

Still held in his father's embrace Bows eyes drifted to the sword at his side and his chest burned with resolve, and he knew that, unlike his dad, he would never be satisfied staying _right there_.

And if he couldn’t ignore the flames inside him then he might as well use them.

* * *

One of the things Bow missed most about home was his dad’s cooking. 

The food in Brightmoon was delicious, but the extravagance and variety of the meals still couldn’t match the warm, comfy feeling he got from Georges chicken pot pie or cheesy potatoes that he had grown up on.

He _didn’t_ miss the web of lies he had to carefully maintain when home though.

“Did you get your history of written word paper back yet?” Lance asked.

Bow tried not to show his alarm that his dad remembered the assignment he had offhandedly made up to tell them about the last time he was home, and instead took a particularly long time chewing his next mouthful while he tried to recall what he had said about the paper.

“Uh, yeah, last week,” He finally answered. “I got a ninety six, Ms. Alcove said it was... very insightful.”

George and Lance both beamed at him. “We knew you’d do well at the Academy,” George said.

“Of course she did, because _you’re_ very insightful!” Lance boasted. “I bet the academy is starting to realize they’ve never had a student as brilliant as our Bow before.”

Bow tried to smile back but it felt weak as all he really wanted to do was shrink under his dads’ undeserved praise. If they knew where he was really going when he left home they wouldn’t be so happy, but he wished he could tell them about all the progress he had made since joining the rebellion - how good he had gotten at archery, his successful tech experiments, his first mission with the rebellion just the a few weeks before...

“Did you guys hear about the attack on Devlan?” Bow ventured cautiously.

Lances expression filled with sympathy. “We did, it’s a tragedy what happened to them.”

“More than half the village destroyed,” George shook his head, his voice taking on a hard edge of anger. “A couple dozen families displaced…”

At his dad’s reaction Bow faltered, realizing his idea to indirectly share his joy had been a bad one. “Well, uh, I heard that- that the rebellion was able to save everyone in town and at least some of the village is still standing, right? So that’s-”

“With no strategic value, I’m surprised they considered Devlan important enough to show up at all,” George muttered bitterly.

“What?” Bow asked flatly, hurt by his dads’ insinuation, and not only because _he_ had gone to Devlan without a thought of it’s ‘strategic value,’ but because Glimmer had been there as well, helping him take civilians to safety; because he had seen the grief in Queen Angellas eyes at meetings when talking about villages they had lost; because he hadn’t once heard anyone in the rebellion bring up strategy before people's lives and homes.

George sighed. “The Princesses only care about winning the war,” He explained, thinking Bow was confused by his statement rather than offended. “They don’t waste resources on villages that won’t help them achieve that, they didn’t when...”

_T _hey_ didn’t when it was our village_, Bow knew, was the unspoken accusation.

“Are you ready for dessert?” Lance asked Bow almost desperately. “I made an apple pie that your dad has been dying to dig into all day.”

Bow looked at the clench of Georges jaw and the sadness in Lances eyes as he watched his husband try not to fall apart, and deflated. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt his dads or cause trouble.

He gave a shaky smile. “Yeah.”

Over dessert Bow answered the rest of their questions about his life at the academy, and didn’t bring up the rebellion again.

* * *

Bow still felt like he was in a dream, except, every dream he had ever had about this situation - and he had had many since joining the rebellion as a young teenager - had been a nightmare and this was nothing of the sort. 

It was like a weight had been lifted and it wasn’t until it was that he realized how heavy it had been. With his dads’ disapproval no longer hanging over him he felt like he could breathe for the first time in he couldn’t remember how long.

And seeing Adora and Glimmer laughing with his dads filled him with so much joy he was glad he didn’t have the weight taking up space any more.

Even if they were laughing at embarrassing stories about him.

* * *

Bow had expected his first time home since his dads found out about the secret life he had been hiding from them to be more uncomfortable.

Instead, he was surprised by how natural it felt, how natural his dads _made_ it feel. There were none of the awkward silences, or sideways glances when they thought he wasn’t looking, or careful avoidance of certain topics that Bow had anticipated. From the moment he walked in, timidly baring his midriff rather then changing before he got there, his dads’ acted as if there had never been a secret in the first place.

He spoke freely, if not a little hesitantly at first, about his days in Brightmoon, without trying to remember which “classes” he was supposed to be taking or the teachers he had made up.

George laughed at his recounting of Glimmers antics, and Lance was fascinated by Adoras powers as She-Ra compared to the myths. They wanted to know about Brightmoons libraries ( _no_ , he assured them, _they’re not as impressive as yours_ ), and if he was eating enough fruits and veggies and not just Brightmoons decadent desserts ( _eight servings a day_ , he said proudly).

And after dinner, while Lance left to his study to finish writing correspondences with archaeologists and other historians around Etheria, Bow found himself showing George his trick arrows as they sat at the coffee table in front of the fireplace, and he couldn’t remember the last time he had been so excited to share something with his dad.

George listened intently and with genuine interest as Bow explained to him what each of the arrows did, then he got the same look on his face that he did when studying a new artifact or piece of writing, and when he started suggesting adjustments and ideas for arrows to add to his collection Bow couldn’t believe how good his input was.

“Hmm, what about an oil slick arrow?” George said thoughtfully. “It’s versatile - it would work against robots and people, and I imagine it could have other uses as well in a jam.”

Bow couldn’t believe he hadn’t thought of it himself, especially after - “Oh man, that would’ve been so useful on this one mission,” He groaned.

He started to tell his dad about the disastrous quest the Best Friend Squad had taken before the thought that perhaps he was pushing their newfound openness too far even crossed his mind, and when it did his words trailed off.

“Then what happened?” His dad prompted. Bow smiled, and launched back into his story.

“That’s one thing I miss from my days in the rebellion,” George said, a far away look in his eye, after Bow finished with how, despite all the mistakes along the way, they managed to liberate the town from the Horde in the end. “Seeing the relief among the villagers, the families... hugging and… _laughing_ , because they’re safe and they’re together. Knowing that I was a part of bringing that to them, that I was part of the reason some of them still had homes to return to and family to hold…”

Bow nodded, leaning back on the couch. “Yeah,” He gave a soft chuckle. “That’s one of my favorite parts too.”

Absentmindedly rolling an arrow in his fingers back and forth, George asked, “Are you ever scared on your missions?”

“All the time,” Bow answered earnestly, his eyebrows drawing low over his eyes at the fact that that was even a question. “But… I can’t stand by and let the Horde destroy Etheria, I have to do something. And… _knowing_ that the fear I feel in battle is probably only half of what the people the Horde is trying to hurt are feeling makes me want to keep going, to protect them.” He shrugged. “And my friends, we look out for each other, I can’t let them down.”

George nodded thoughtfully, then all at once the pensive look disappeared from his face and he turned to Bow with worry in its place. “Just _be careful_ ,” He said sternly. “And think about yourself too. And remember that… that you have dads at home who would miss you a whole lot if anything ever happened to you.” 

Bow tried to swallow the lump in his throat. “I will,” He said, his voice thick. “I do.”

His dad looked at him for a moment longer then grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him into a fierce hug.

* * *

Bows whole body felt heavy when he drifted back to consciousness, he couldn’t have opened his eyes even if he wanted to. And he _didn’t_ want to, he was warm and comfortable, he could feel a soft blanket draped over him, and heard his dads’ voices nearby like it was a Sunday morning at home. Lance would be making pancakes, George sitting at the breakfast nook drinking coffee while reading a book. Bow could sleep in as long as he wanted.

But - something was wrong, the slow realization struggled to him through the fog of sleep. Something about hearing his dads’ voices was unexpected.

He was in Brightmoon, he remembered. Why were his dads in Brightmoon?

Glimmer spoke, but her words ran together until they had no meaning to his ears.

The mission, the robot, the blast, it came back to him.

She-Ra had healed him of the worst of the damage from the bots pulse that nearly killed him earlier, but he had still ached like he had been run over by a dozen Horde tanks and briefly set on fire. After Adora left the Brightmoon medics gave him a tea for sleep, to ease the pain and help his body recover. He had barely finished the cup before he gratefully let it knock him out.

Had someone sent for his dads? A rush of panic worked its way past the haze from the medicine.

He had gotten injured. His dads’ were going to freak out. They would see this as proof that they were right about not wanting him involved in the rebellion.

Bow felt a hand squeeze his forearm where it lay at his side on the bed.

“ _Thank you_ for telling us,” He heard Lance say.

“You’re his dads’, of course you’d want to be here,” Glimmer said. Bow heard the wistfulness in her tone that his dads probably didn’t pick up on. “I have to go, but if you need a medic, or anything at all, you can ask any of the guards, they’re all over the castle.”

There was the sound of a door shutting, then a long silence, and with nothing to keep Bows attention the medicine started to pull him back under. He was almost asleep when he heard Lance quietly ask, “How many times do you think he’s been injured and we didn’t _know_?”

Bow felt a pang of guilt at the hurt in his dad’s voice, but he was quickly losing consciousness again and couldn’t have said anything even if he knew what to say.

“We’re here now,” George said softly. “We… we can be here for him _now_.”

A kiss was pressed to Bows forehead, the hairs of a mustache tickling just above his brow familiarly. “I’m so proud of you,” George whispered. “My little soldier.”

* * *

Bows arrows took out clone after clone as he made his way through the battlefield that encompassed the land around Brightmoon.

They hadn’t known what to expect when they made it off Horde Primes ship, but Bow had feared they would return to find Etheria in ruin with only the Princesses left on land to protect it from Primes vast forces.

Instead he found himself fighting alongside villagers and kingdom residents and even Horde soldiers. People without magic, people who had never touched a weapon before taking up what they had on hand or grabbing what they could from the armory, people from all over Etheria regardless of what side they had previously been on, all defending the planet they called home.

Bow was pretty sure he had never seen anything as beautiful.

As the battle wore on with a seemingly endless supply of clones and robots to replace the ones that were defeated Bow tried to be wherever he was needed most. He protected those that were injured and making their way to the healers tent, he jumped in when he saw Adora and Catra becoming overwhelmed with bots, he took out a squadron of incoming clones with a trick arrow before they could disembark and join the fight.

And he tried to stay near the base of the Moonstone, guarding Glimmer above as she defended Brightmoons runestone - the only thing now stopping Prime from accessing the Heart.

To his left Bow heard a scream and took off, already nocking an arrow before he came upon the source of the cry, a young teen on the ground, twitching from the shock of a stun baton, about to be struck again by the clone that stood over them.

Bow pulled the string of his bow back, aimed-

A man with familiar dark skin and a strong set to his broad shoulders slid in and with the swipe of a long, curved blade sword, took out the clone before Bow could fire. He reached down to help the teen to their feet.

Bow stared in awe, unable to believe his eyes. 

“Dad?!”

George turned at the sound of his voice and his face filled with relief. “Bow!” He cried, running to him and wrapping him in a bone-crushing hug which Bow slowly returned despite his confusion.

“What are you _doing_ here?” Bow asked as he pulled back.

His dad grinned. “What’s _right_ ,” He answered with a firm squeeze of Bows shoulder.

At his side Bow noticed the sword he wielded was the one engraved with _family_ on the hilt that he had shown him years before.

“Watch out,” George ordered, pushing Bow out of the way as a bot fired at them, then leapt in to stab through its center.

In the light of the explosion that followed Bow looked at his dad with his swept back, battle-mussed hair, his skin glistening from a light sheen of sweat, and the fire reflected in his eyes, and was reminded of the imaginary heroes he used to make up as a kid.

He was also reminded why his dad had been his _first_ hero.

Then George took a gasping breath and laughed. “I’m… a little out of practice,” He puffed, shooting Bow a crooked, humorous smile. “But I’ve still got it.”

Bow grinned back, then realized; “Where’s dad?”

“Helping in the healers tent,” George said with a smirk.

They both looked to the foot of the castle where a large tent had been set up to treat the injured, and, sure enough, there was his other dad with his dreads pulled back in a bun and his hands gloved, bandaging a mans leg. He glanced over his shoulder as if he could feel the eyes on him and waved at Bow and his husband before returning to his task.

Bow saw a drone fly overhead and quickly fired an arrow, watching it blow up in midair. “When did you _get_ here?” He asked incredulously. 

“A couple hours ago,” George said, tripping up a clone with the flat of his blade as they ran past him. “We saw the ships landing and we knew we had to come. Is Glimmer alright?”

“Yeah!” Bow assured him, then pointed to the Moonstone. “She’s-”

He gasped. In the minutes since he had last looked the Moonstone chamber had been surrounded by clone soldiers. Even from across the lake Bow could see the flashes of Glimmer teleporting, and the occasional clone being dropped over the side. But there were too many, there was no way Glimmer could handle them all on her own.

“Go,” George said.

Bow looked at him uncertainty. His dad in battle was something Bow was still trying to wrap his head around, leaving him seemed wrong, but Glimmer…

“Your dad and I will see you later,” George promised firmly. “ _Go_.”

With a sharp nod Bow pulled an arrow from his quiver and took off at a sprint for the Moonstone.

A moment later he spared a glimpse back to see his dad already in action once again, an obviously skilled soldier despite years off the field, fighting with a determination Bow had never seen from him.

And Bow had never been more proud of his dad.

**Author's Note:**

> Are you sure that sword says 'family,' George? Because after your lunch tattoo I'm not too confident in your First Ones literacy


End file.
